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they’ve been up to something for years and playing us for fools.”
“That’s pretty clear to me. When I think of them I get the impression of immense power, and – although not evil – a feeling of pretty strong dislike.”
“They dislike us? What, just you and me, or –“
“No – the whole human race. They really don’t like us very much.”
Janette was about to ask how he could know that, but thought better of it. She knew the answer.
Mark continued, the thoughtful look on his face: “And when you say that their first words were ‘We mean Earth no harm’, well, Earth could just mean the planet. It doesn’t have to include the people on it too, does it?”
“Hmmm.” Janette frowned.
“And when I think of those words, ‘We mean Earth no harm’ I get the definite impression of games-playing.”
“Huh. I remember, when I was a little girl, there was a TV series they used to show called ‘V’. It was about these aliens that came to take our water, because their own planet had run dry. They disguised themselves as humans, but really they were reptiles or lizards or something underneath. It was water, and I think they also wanted us for food. They had these huge space ships that hovered over our major cities – “
“Like in that old film, ‘Independence Day’?”
“Yes! Big round things, huge. And they stored our water and bodies on these space ships.” Janette lost herself in her recollection for a moment. “There was a really nice guy who led the resistance. I used to fancy him.”
“Mum! I don’t think this is the time to start remembering childhood loves.”
Janette laughed. “Sometimes you sound exactly like your dad.”
“But no,” said Michael, after a mouthful of tea.
“What do you mean, ‘no’?”
“They are not after our water, and they don’t want us for food.” Mark’s eyes took on the far away look again. “They are not a scout ship. They only have the – hey, wait a minute…” For a long moment Mark fell quiet, his face set and serious, as if scanning a distant horizon. “I see… I see the other ship. I see it in my mind’s eye. I think that was true what dad said about the mother ship. McIntyre’s field is just a landing craft. I can see the other one. They’ve hidden it, but I can actually see in my mind where it is!”
“Where?”
“I can’t see clearly, but I know it’s somewhere in the planet’s magnetic field… north, somewhere north… in the sky. And because of a distortion in the magnetic field we can’t detect it on Earth. It’s another game. They’re hiding in the sky! They’re actually hiding where we could see them, but they’re using the planet against us. Particles from the sun, what do you call it, the aurora… ?”
“The aurora borealis? The Northern Lights?”
“That’s it. Particles from the sun cause our radar and stuff to go all wonky, and the Soros make use of that.”
“You know, you get most of your insights when you’re drinking tea. Have another cup!”
Mark laughed. “Maybe I’ll make a fortune teller some day.”
Then he froze. “Satellite surveillance just swept over us. But it’s okay. They didn’t see the car.”
Janette looked out of the window. “I never really noticed last night, but I’ve parked under a tree. Perhaps we should be leaving.” She got up immediately.
“What is it, mum?” Mark asked.
“There’s a police car pulling in to the car park.”
Their bags had already been packed, so it was a matter of minutes to retrieve them. She fetched them herself, stuffing Mark’s notes in one of the side pockets, while Mark went outside. They knew without anything being said that if they were separate the two policemen, who by now were examining the Hyundai, would probably not recognise them. Together they ran the biggest risk.
Mark stood beside an old yellow Mercedes, looking as if he were waiting for his parents to come out of the hotel. He lounged against it, surprised at how cool-headed he felt. He even turned to look at the policemen. One of them had returned to his car and was speaking into his radio. The other was keying something into his notepad.
Mark was toying with the passenger door handle when, much to his surprise, he found it opened when he tried it. It was the act of a second to get in and check the ignition for keys. There they were. Mark got out of the car. Now his heart seemed to be thudding into his mouth.
Janette appeared on the steps of the hotel. She barely glanced at the policemen. The one with the notepad was now approaching the hotel. Mark tried to signal to his mother. She saw him, but looked away, and gestured subtly to the other side of the road. The railway track and the station were virtually opposite the hotel. She started to cross the road.
Mark felt that this was right, and then, as he began to follow her, he realised that trying to make a getaway in a stolen car, with the owner still in the hotel, and the police right there with a probably faster car, would not be logical. The most they could hope for would be a five-minute start.
A subway led under the railway track to the station and the platforms. Mark caught up with his mother there. “We’d better take a brisk walk,” she said. “Follow me.”
She stuffed the luggage bags into a yellow plastic container by the side of a wall. The letters GRIT advertised the container’s contents, but there was room enough for two small bags. Then they made their way under another subway that led on to the West Highland Way footpath. It was a track wide enough for a Landrover.
“My shoes are not really made for this,” remarked Janette as she clambered over a style, “and if I get mud on this skirt I’ll scream, but needs must.”
“May I ask just where we are going?”
“Just a little walk, dear, just a little walk. This way!”
Before long they came to a place on the track concealed by low trees where they could look back on the hotel and see what was happening in the car park, and they were far enough away, and able to conceal themselves, so that there was little likelihood of anyone at the hotel seeing them.
“We’ll wait here for a bit,” said Janette. “Then, when the coast’s clear, we’ll grab the next train. They will think we’ve long gone. Buses come through here all the time, so they’ll probably follow that line of enquiry. I wouldn’t have thought they would set up roadblocks. We’re not that dangerous, surely.”
They waited for two hours.

**********

Cameron was tired, and getting cold from inactivity. He was pretending to be interested in the deer and buzzards on the hill opposite him, beyond the hotel, but he was himself situated a little way up Ben Dorain. From his vantage point, Cameron watched through binoculars the woman and her son stop by the stand of hazel trees. They kept looking back towards the hotel. It was obviously the police who had made them jumpy, though the police car had long since moved on. The G5 buzzed. Cameron activated it and saw Logan’s face on the small viewer.
“What are they doing?” Logan was positioned in his Jeep, still waiting for instructions.
“They’re just sitting on a couple of rocks, talking. I think they’re waiting for a train. Why don’t we just do it now?”
“No, Cameron, we wait.” Logan cut the connection and called up the interface. He himself could not understand the reason for the delay.

**********

Janette stood up and paced impatiently. “You know, if this were a novel, it’s at this point that we would meet up with a rough, tough male who would know exactly what to do in this situation,” said Janette. “He would be wearing a checked shirt, a pair of jeans – “
“And a beard. Don’t forget the beard!”
“ – and he would be ex-Special Forces and be highly trained in martial arts – “
“ – with access to weapons.. “
“Yeah! Loads of them. Weapons would be useful. We could use weapons.”
“And he would just step right up and save the day…”
“But not without getting horribly hurt in the process,” said Janette.
“But you, being a doctor, would cure him and he would fall in love with you and be a perfect dad.”
“With a big dog.”
“So,” said Mark, “do you know anyone like that?”
“No.”
Eventually a couple of West Highland Way hikers passed them, but neither sported a checked shirt or jeans. Mark and Janette’s lack of equipment provoked no curiosity either. The walk south to Tyndrum was only seven miles and it was popular with people out for simple stroll, which was what the hikers assumed Mark and Janette to be.

**********

At last, they saw the train from a considerable distance, coming from the north, from Fort William, heading for Glasgow. Taking their time, they sauntered back and joined a handful of others on the platform. They split up. Janette gave Mark some money for his ticket and went to get the bags, which she did without complication. There was no sign of police, she noticed.
The train stopped. A young man carrying a binoculars case came running off the hill. Obviously a bird-watcher, thought Janette. Some people disembarked; those who had been waiting got on, the birdwatcher included. Tickets were bought on board, from small machines in each carriage. A conductor would pass up the train at some point to check everyone had paid. The train waited a few minutes then slowly moved off. At the same time the battered Jeep left the hotel car park and turned towards Tyndrum.
Two minutes saw the train safely away from the station. They placed their two bags on the luggage rack near the carriage door. Janette went to the toilet and Mark looked out of the window. On the same road he and his mother had travelled down the previous night, he noticed green, canvas-backed army lorries moving north. They were carrying soldiers. He could see the soldiers in the open backs of the trucks. Could they be looking for him? he wondered. A solitary Jeep was making its way south.
He looked away, and studied the people around him. They all looked harmless enough. Students, holidaymakers, weary hikers.
The dividing door at the far end of the carriage, by the toilet into which Janette had disappeared, slid open with a soft hiss and a solid-looking uniformed policeman stepped through. He had obviously been on the train for some time and now he was checking the passengers who had just embarked. Mark sat back down. His heart pounded.
“Done for!” he thought, running hid fingers through his hair.
The policeman held his electronic notepad in his hand, and he was checking something on
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